


Rose (A Vignette)

by immortalbears



Series: Reading Palahniuk in a coffee shop [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anxiety, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalbears/pseuds/immortalbears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having recently met each other as co-workers at a cafe, Wash finally realises that Felix has just hit on him, and they go for a couple of drinks together. </p><p>Felix seduces Wash, but when Wash shows that he has issues having sex with people he barely knows, Felix tries an alternative method.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose (A Vignette)

 

_**Rose (A Vignette)** _

The first time Wash was kissed by Felix, it was at a quiet bar on an off-peak hour two streets down the cafe where they worked. The bartender conveniently ignored Wash and Felix as they took a seat on the couch at the back of the bar, dropping by only when other customers wanted drinks.

After a couple of rounds, the discomfort of being in a new place didn't quite matter as much to Wash anymore, and he founds himself talking about inconsequential things a lot more easily.

“I do prefer the lighter tone in BB cream. It makes my skin look lighter,” Wash explained. “My face is now a darker shade than even my hands from being out in the sun so much. It bothers me.”

“That happens to everyone, Wash.” Felix replied, sipping his drink casually and crossing his legs. “But if you really need it, lemon juice and baking soda could help – if you apply it at night.”

Wash smiled quietly. He looked at the BB cream in his bag, as well as the powder that Felix said would make his face less shiny. “I'll try that out.”

Felix looked at Wash's face intently. “Do you know what I particularly like, Wash?”

“Hm?”

“There's this special look that only you have, which makes you seem so unique to me. The way your skin contrasts against that bleached blond of your hair, and the way your face looks so symmetrical...”

Wash's brows furrowed in confusion. His voice squeaked a little. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

A smirk crossed Felix's lips, as he continued, “Well, they say symmetry is considered beautiful.”

Wash turned red. That couldn't be. Not in his wildest dreams would he consider the fact that he had just heard that coming from Felix's mouth, especially considering how hostile Felix had been earlier in the day. Now, Felix had this incredibly smooth, relaxed poise to himself, leaning back against the couch and sipping his drink.

“You know, I'm a connoisseur.” Felix continued, after a while, “Of people. Many people look quite decent if they put in the effort, and the result is, of course, that _everybody_ looks the same. If you wear one of those shorts and shirt, nobody could tell you apart from them. Your clothes are plain right now, yes, but somehow, you look quite nice in blue. I think, though, you'd have to mix it up a little – maybe a bit of bright colors contrasted with dark ones.”

“...Like what you're wearing?” Wash asked, looking at Felix's orange pants and black shirt.

“Not the exact same color. Maybe a distressed shade of gray. Or black. Grey and black always match.” Felix raked his eyes down Wash's chest to his waist. “...Slim fit, but not too tight. We're both too old for that emo boy look. Plus, that won't fit our job.”

Wash nodded, taking mental notes as he listened. He didn't miss Felix's look, either.

“My point is, even though there's ways that we can look good, standards of masculinity typically prohibits men from being beautiful, and the result is, of course, that men become ugly in comparison to women. That has to change. Men can be beautiful, too. It's an art, really, for a man to look beautiful without being too conspicuous.”

Wash raised an eyebrow. “Huh.” He didn't want to comment on Felix's ideas of beauty for now – it seemed like it had to be defined, and he wasn't in the mood for an in-depth discussion about gendered terms like beauty and handsomeness. All he wanted to do was to try and figure out what Felix had to say, where he was going with it, and whether or not he could improve his looks with limited funds. Felix seemed skilled at that.

“The reality is that even men in those magazines put on makeup and are photoshopped. They were done to not look like they did, of course, but it's the same thing.” Felix's cheeks were growing redder by the second – he seemed to be getting drunker and drunker. “Hold on, let me get more drinks. Do you want anything?”

“I will come with you.”

“Oh?” Felix had a grin on his face. “Then you might as well get me a drink. I'll reserve the seat for both of us.”

Wash was surprised that the both of them seemed to get buzzed so quickly. “What would you like?”

Felix pointed at a cocktail on the menu. Wash considered asking Felix to pay for his drinks, but decided against it. He didn't go out often enough, so he wanted to splurge and to enjoy himself, if but a little.

The other man looked at him like he'd just passed a test as he returned with drinks. He sat more closely to Wash then, and smiled at him more.

“You seem to know quite a bit about fashion,” Wash commented.

“Eh. It's just things you pick up here and there. See, you'll hardly see anybody who looks like us in international magazines. You have to look at East Asian magazines to have any idea of how we should look like, as fashionable people, to other people who look like us. The fact is, we look different, so the way to make ourselves look good is also different. It's common sense.” Felix chuckled, tapping his fingers on the table lightly. He seemed to enjoy feeling the texture of the table; Wash wondered just how touchy Felix could be, if he wanted to be. Fortunately, Felix didn't seem interested in touching him. “There're tanned actors and models, too. And the fact is, your hands and face aren't ever going to match. You just have to put on sunscreen on your face more vigilantly – even in winter. The winter sun's always the worst, actually, because of the snow. But your hands will get wrinkled if you don't take care of them, so I'd just say put sunscreen everywhere.”

“I always thought it was enough to moisturize,” Wash said. His skin flaked and itched when he didn't do it, anyway.

“Well, yeah. You can always tell when people don't. They look like prunes by the time they're thirty. That's why so many men look so terrible. They've bought in to the idea that taking care of themselves is not something men should do, and they burn away and turn around to blame everyone but themselves. Silly, huh?” Felix shrugged. “What I mean to say is, Wash, when you're working in sales, you've got to take care of your looks. Everybody likes to look at a good-looking face. It's the one thing you have that's going to make things easier. That's just how humans are. I'll help you with that.”

“I couldn't do it when I was deployed, but I guess I'll catch up on that.” Wash nodded. He looked down wistfully at his hands, looking at the veins on them. He thought of how big Locus' hands were in comparison to his own, and felt an unspeakable yearning welling up inside him.

“I guess part of tanning easily is that your skin doesn't take as much sun damage,” Felix smiled. It then occurred to Wash that the other man was studying him. “It's fine, Wash.”

“Just a matter of genetics, then.” Wash commented. He wondered how old Locus was; the man certainly seemed like he would be older than both himself and Felix, but his eyes had the wistful look of a young, hopeful poet whenever he looked at Felix and himself. “So many things that we have to deal with are simply a matter of circumstances.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Felix grinned. “But we'll make the most of what we can.”

“I'll try.”

“You know, both of you have the same look in your eyes.”

Felix's hands had moved closed enough to Wash's such that their knuckles were touching. Wash hadn't realized it until Felix took his hand and started putting his fingers over his own, as if his body was something to entertain the other man with. He was tempted to shake it away, but Felix's tone and body language persuaded him otherwise. “What do you mean? Who is the other guy?”

“Locus, I mean. You know, the large guy with the scar?” Felix explained. Wash jumped as he ran his fingers lightly over his knuckles, but calmed down when Felix's touch was firmer. “When you're alone, you look like it's just you against the world. But when you're looking at people, it's like you're searching for something inside them.”

“What would we be searching for?” Wash asked. The alcohol really was kicking in; it felt very hot inside the bar. Most importantly, he was relaxing enough to pay attention to Felix, and nothing but Felix. How many drinks had he had? Wasn't it watered down?

“How would I know?” Felix shrugged. “That's only for you to know. I'm just an observer. A _connoisseur_.” He said the last word with a smile and a nod of the head, as if he had a piece of inside knowledge that nobody else did.

“It just seems like you'd have some idea. You were the one who said it, after all.” Wash looked down at their hands, at the way Felix was now holding his. He wondered if he should hold it back; it was soft, unlike his, or Locus'. He liked it soft, too – Felix must have taken care of his hands very well; his nails were well trimmed, unlike his own, which was peeling at the sides.

“Eh.” Felix leaned in quietly, and whispered into his ear. “If you don't find what you're looking for, look at me instead. How about that?”

“W– Why?” Wash turned red when Felix's breath grazed gently against the shell of his ear.

“Try it.” Felix said, again, reaching down to touch Wash's thigh.

If Wash had been less drunk, he would have pushed Felix away. As it was, a part of his mind was scared; it was saying that he should do precisely that, because he should not desire beyond his scope. Most of himself, however, was comfortably warm and relaxed, and had let his guard down. He turned, and almost lost his breath.

Felix had been talking about beauty earlier; it just occurred to Wash that he was looking at the precise image of Adonis himself. Felix had a cupid's bow of an angel and dark brown eyes that shone brightly with a certain spirit. He looked so harmless that Wash let him come ever closer – until their lips met.

The beautiful were often compared to roses for a reason – Wash understood then, because Felix's lips were as soft as petals, and his scent, as fragrant as roses.

 _Be careful,_ Wash thought, even within the haze of drunkenness. _There is no rose without its thorns._

*

Wash couldn't take his eyes off the other man.

There was a certain sort of beauty, he knew, that was praised in the Hellenic tradition with dubious overtones reflecting the social norms of ancient Greece. Wash was surprised at himself for thinking of something so irrelevant to whatever was going on around him.

He allowed himself to smile at Felix as the other man slid out of his clothes. A pang seized his heart as Felix saw him and smiled back; he felt as if he was being seen by the other man.

Was he so desperate and lonely, so eager to hold and to behold?

Unsure of what the sense of urgency was, and unable to articulate it, Wash reached down to his boxer-briefs and began to touch himself, cupping his genitals with a gentleness that only a couple of men had afforded him in his life. He breathed in deeply, amazed at Felix's laughter, fascinated by how charmed he himself was. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope; the only difference was that his view was unaltered by anything but alcohol and Felix's beauty.

He licked his lips, as Felix came towards him and began to tug at his own clothes impatiently, beckoning him to shed them like old skin.

This Wash did, lifting his arms and throwing his shirt aside. He kicked off the remaining leg of his pants and wiggled out of his boxers-briefs, unwilling to take his eyes off Felix all the while.

“I guess I don't need to ask,” Felix said, with a laugh.

“What?” Wash scratched his head lightly, as the other man straddled him, making the one-man bed creak.

“You don't have any condoms, do you?”

“No.” Wash replied, cheeks red. “Is it that obvious?”

Felix let his gaze devour Wash's form slowly. “...It's a pity, that's all. That you don't even have any opportunities to use them even if you wanted.”

“...Hey.” Wash protested, lightly, as Felix laughed. “...What would you do if we had them?”

“Wear them over our heads?” Felix replied, without missing a beat. He licked his lips hungrily, as he reached down to touch Wash's chest. “...I'm flexible. Are you?”

Wash wasn't sure how to reply to that without ruining the mood. He kept quiet for a moment, before Felix shrugged and started feeling him up, kissing him this way and that; on the lips, the neck, the chest. Wash let him do as he pleased, stiffening with every touch, clenching at every moment of pleasure that Felix sent jolting up his spine.

“You're scared.” Felix observed, after a while. “Are you scared of me?”

“No.” Wash replied. He reached up and tousled Felix's hair a little, before running his fingers down Felix's neck. “Believe me when I say that I want this, Felix. I just...”

“It's just that you have issues. I should have guessed.” Felix said, matter-of-factly. Then, voice softening, he asked, “Do you trust me, Wash?”

“I don't know. We just met yesterday.” Wash realized that he shouldn't have admitted that after he blurted it out. Even admitting that he didn't know was a sign of weakness. Even so, both of them were naked, and looking at each other with fire in their eyes. “I want to do this, Felix. Does it matter if I trust you?”

Felix's smile was full of pity. “Do you even know what I want to do?”

“Anything. I'm fine with that.” Wash blurted out, cheeks burning. He lay there, body tense, hands gripping onto the bedpost.

“What if I said that I wanted you to trust me?” Felix asked, and climbed off Wash. He sat on the edge of the bed, tilting his body ever so slightly to touch Wash on the cheek.

“I... don't know how.”

They looked at each other, and Felix let out a short laughter, like he had just gotten a gift that he didn't expect.

“Sit up.” Felix said, looking at Wash from the corner of his eyes. “We're going to be partners.”

“Would you fuck me if we weren't?” Wash asked, curious. His head was a hot mess; he wanted to touch Felix, but didn't want to reach for him, almost as the other man would vanish if he tried. He tried to picture himself taking Felix, but couldn't. “Or I could... I could try it, the other way around.”

“You'll regret it in the morning, and then we won't do this ever again.”

Wash lowered his head, thinking. Felix was right. The aching in his crotch and the yearning in his body – that was happening because he was drunk, terribly lonely, and incredibly horny. Somehow, in this entire mess, it translated to a yearning to hurt or be hurt, to take risks that he normally won't, and to even get off on harming himself through sex.

Did he want it? Yes. Was it a bad idea? Also yes. He knew, but didn't care.

 _Fuck, I'm not drunk enough for this,_ He thought, sitting up and feeling the world spin in front of his eyes. “I won't.”

“ _Buddy._ ” Felix sighed, exasperated. “Let me guess. You've been hurt before.”

Wash wasn't sure how Felix knew that, but he supposed that it was either obvious, or Felix was just that good at reading people. “...How?”

“It's the way you tense up, Wash.” Felix explained. He reached for the bottle of alcohol that he'd left by the bed, and took a huge gulp. He offered to Wash with a smile, and the latter took it, and did the same, thinking he could use the intoxication. “You were touching yourself like you couldn't wait. You want it, but you can't even bring yourself to take what you want. That's extra levels of fucked up, dude.”

Wash sat down beside Felix, looking down at his own feet now. He closed his eyes, and breathed in quietly. It was true. Felix could read so much from his body language – it was as if the other man reached inside his head and started fiddling around. It was a complete mess. “...Sorry.”

“Trust takes time, I guess. If we're going to be partners, we'll have all the time in the world.” Felix smirked, and kissed Wash again, reaching to touch him quietly on the side of his neck. Wash tensed up immediately, even as he reminded himself to relax. “What do you say, Wash? One step at a time. Trust me.”

“Okay.” Wash replied. What Felix wanted was more than what Wash could give at that moment, but he tried. He tried to relax into Felix's touch. Eventually, Felix let go of him, a frown on his face. Worried that he'd managed to ruin it, like he'd ruined so many things by virtue of being so awkward, Wash apologized again. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry about, Wash?”

“I... can't relax.” He said, ruefully. “I want this, but...”

“Hey, man. Lean back onto the bed. I'll sit at the end... Alright, there we go.” Felix licked his lips, and spread his legs. Wash followed, uncertain, but curious. He watched as Felix's hands ran down his own body, as Felix touched his own cock and fondled his own balls, all the while looking at Wash in the eyes. “Reach down... That's it. Let's find the center in you, Washy.”

Wash felt a little something light up inside him, as he mirrored Felix's movements. They smiled at each other then. _Find the center in me._

“Look at me, Wash. Trust me.”

Wash moaned softly, while they looked at each other and touched themselves in front of each other. He felt the shudder travel down his spine as Felix pinched his own nipples – and he did the same. Wash was relaxing – he was melting into the sense of camaraderie as they both did their own thing, in perfect rhythm, mirroring each other.

Felix let out a soft groan, thrusting his own hips upwards needily into his own hand. “More, Wash–”

Wash closed his eyes for a moment, gritting his teeth. He felt his stomach knot up and tense up, as his entire lower body shook. “Felix...”

 _God, you're beautiful._ His eyes were on Felix's lips again as he came, hard, onto his own belly. He shivered, looking down at the incredibly _human_ stain on his own body. Shame and fear hit him for a moment, manifesting as stings on his cheek while he felt his cock grow soft below his grasp. _Soft. I'm getting soft. Not just there, but in other places too._

– _I'm afraid._

Felix got on his knees, crawled over to Wash, and kissed him deeply while he stroked himself. Wash, in his fear, held on to the one thing that held him then. He kissed back, trying to shut off the animal portion of his mind, trying to embrace the sweetness of Felix's breath. That presence, unmarred and untainted by the horrors of the past, seemed to Wash the most precious of all – he smiled quietly as Felix let out a last grunt.

Without another word, Wash reached for the tissues on his bedstand.

“Sec.” Felix said, looking down. He reached to touch Wash's belly, looking at the white fluid splatters that had gathered on his softened skin. Wash looked down, too, wondering what Felix's intentions were – nothing, apparently, as Felix lifted his hands and said, “Give me some tissue, too.”

They smiled at each other, and both of them wiped themselves down.

“I'm tired.” Felix murmured, voice and eyes soft.

“Same.”

Without thinking about how and why, Wash scuttled onto the side of his bed, feeling Felix roll in with him under the blankets, taking up the remaining space. Like a cat that took the form of his master's imprint, Wash thought, holding Felix's waist for a moment. Felix rolled around and wrapped his skinny arms around him.

Wash's eyelids grew heavy; his mind was pleasantly devoid of thoughts, and he fell asleep.

 


End file.
